


get that boy a sandwich

by epistaxiophilia



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-24
Updated: 2014-04-24
Packaged: 2018-01-20 15:27:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1515506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/epistaxiophilia/pseuds/epistaxiophilia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>i don't really write a lot. i'm mostly doing this to bother my coworker, and i guess anyone else that wants to be mildly bothered. tiny fliclet on a small situation and visualization i've been thinking about it. tw: starving.<br/>after winter soldier; months and months after. steve and sam have presumably been hunting and working on taming down the ever illusive bucky, and he's finally decided that steve's house isn't so bad.</p>
            </blockquote>





	get that boy a sandwich

**Author's Note:**

> present for user hawkeye, i should really get her to beta this first, but instead i'm not doing that. enjoy.

     It was the first time he'd actually stayed the entire night. Not exactly the entire night in the house- but in the room. Not that he hadn't left the house as well when first invited, the first couple weeks. Gone for several nights sometimes, leaving Steve wrought with worry it would be the time he wouldn't return. For multiple reasons, even, things as simple as him choosing not to, or getting hurt, lost; but it made no sense to think he wouldn't wander. He wandered constantly, even housebound, through doors and hallways, idling on the balls of his feet to shift and sniff and stare. Bucky wouldn't ignore him either, though, pausing and rousing to the call of the name he didn't feel entirely home with, focusing and coming when called. Which wasn't really the forced response Steve was ever hoping for, but after days of similar responses, he was also getting used to the feeling.  
  
     Steve wasn't comfortable with how slow a process it all was; months and months of searching and failing and coaxing left him tired and worn; but Sam was, and Bucky himself was somewhat patient with Steve's lack thereof. He eased his own way into the apartment, coming and going at his own leisure, more aware of his own limits. Long winded conversations held together trust that he would come wander closer _(though admittedly Steve was coming to notice how entirely one sided any conversation was)_. When he finally sat down in a chair for the first time, he hardly knew how to respond other then a wideyed stare- momentarily-, before catching himself to act like that somehow wasn't a big deal. Maybe slip him some chocolate not-so-slyly passing by in his chair throne. If he has learned anything about convincing Bucky to do anything, it was that he was easily swayed with food; despite the small degree of humanity it visually took from his already low levels. When he sunk down into the seat, drowning in an overly large sweater, losing layers of pressure in his stance and his expression- god Steve never saw him relax, never saw him sleep. It wasn't like Bucky didn't give treats in return- but treats to Steve were flecks of remembrance, emotion, weakness. He knew when to deal it out and when to pace and rumble. Eventually there was little surprises.  
  
  
     Though as remarked earlier- this was, the first time, that he had stayed and sat and pretended to sleep all night. Steve had propped a large recliner in the corner of his own room, after several nights of nervousness on Bucky's own in the house while Steve slept, prompted him to offer. He would still come and go often; but he would sit and rest for longer. It was odd to be watched while he slept, but it wasn't as if he hadn't shared a room with Bucky before. It didn't matter if Bucky didn't remember it; as long as Steve did. Occasionally in the morning, after watching Steve do it once or twice, he'd start up a record of old music, and it really did set the feeling in stone. It wasn't any different this morning, slowly rising to the sound of music; but he remarked silently to himself the lack of the usual midnight waking and doors and footsteps. When he had quietly rolled over, he was greeted with one eye to the sight of the curtains drawn in such a way the morning sun rolled across the opposite wall and floor, no where near greeting his bed yet. Bucky stood there in the small ray of warm light, eyes lidded and soft; dark and tired. His gaze traveled downwards at the odd sight of his lack of shirt, eye focusing beyond the sleepy haze to him leaned to one side, his left side, awkwardly almost; the shining of his metal appendage sparkling sunlight across the floor.  
  
     He'd never realized how much it stood out against him, pale and scarred in his skin. In fact; it was more stood out then he'd even remembered, focusing back to even earlier dates where he'd gotten nice and close to it, albeit in a more violent manner then staring sleepily from across the room. When he finally lifted his head enough to focus with both eyes, realization sunk a hole into his gut. He'd always been wearing sweaters- hoodies, baggy clothes and shoddy long sleeve shirts. Past the scarring his skin was stuck to his bones, lining the flesh in his ribs; vertebrae of the spine and sharp curves of his hip. His arm stood out, now, leaned and thicker then the rest of him, because it wore its wasting in visibly frayed wires, dents and scuffs in plating; rather then a loss of mass the rest of him was facing. Steve had honestly always noticed it leaning, less so at first, but more in the coming months Bucky had decided to occupy his space; he cursed himself quietly he hadn't come to any conclusions beyond that he _had_ noticed the arm was fairly damaged. But the man wouldn't let him take a look at it _(not that he could help, though he would probably contact Tony about it eventually.)_ \- let alone the rest of his body. Steve shifted more suddenly after the moment of taking in the sight; and they were both taken aback as Buckys eyes flashed open and he bounced; giving the other a sharp look before turning away and pacing back to the fargoing corner. Steve hadn't expected him to not notice he was awake, and double did not expect him to not hear him move when he did the first time.  
  
 _" Wait; wait. No, you can stay there, I'm getting up anyways."_  
  
 _" I didn't want to wake you. It's nice outside."_ , he eyed the small pocket into the outside warely, still lowered and cornered to himself.  
  
 _" It's fine, it's morning and I should be awake, open it all the way- if you want."_ , he gestures a hand towards it, looking away and shifting off the side of his mattress, " It is nice out, enjoy it if you want too."  
  
He hums softly and steps back into the light when he feels the gaze leave his form. Past the softly still playing music, the smallest revs of engines and scraping metal sound to gradually opening light across the entire room. Steve makes sure not to look back again; pacing off towards the kitchen. He'd need to figure to make something impressive enough to convince him to eat in front of him more then just snacks.


End file.
